


[we’ll always have the swear can]

by bs13



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, and these two being dorks ❤️, bringing-your-gf-home-to-meet-the-family au, lots of fluff, superpowered!kara au but no supergirl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 13:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17101769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bs13/pseuds/bs13
Summary: Kara is bringing her girlfriend home for Chanukah to share her family traditions; Lena is a bit reluctant, but not for the reason Kara thinks.





	[we’ll always have the swear can]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StoriesbyReese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyReese/gifts).



> i had a proper plan for this prompt where it would ideally be about as long as last year’s work and would feature fake dating and not an established relationship but ! i never got to finish it in time so i wrote this fluff instead, i’m sorry ://
> 
> i had to write this all on my phone so forgive any errors (insert crying emoji here)
> 
> i’m without wifi for the next month so i haven’t been able to go on tumblr rip but i’m still there at [pippytmi](http://pippytmi.tumblr.com/), i’ll probably die of shame over writing less than 4k words for this fic on there in a month or so ♡

“Fuck, it’s _cold_ ,” Lena swears, slamming the door so harshly the sound reverberates through the car.

Kara wordlessly starts up the engine again so the heat will come back. Humans are so interesting to observe in the winter; Lena’s nose is red, her cheeks rosy, and her breath comes out in white puffs of air that Kara has only ever witnessed in movies. It’s _adorable_.

And when the heat comes out as a blast of cold air, Lena tucks her scarf more snugly underneath her chin as a shiver runs through her, the kind that Kara would usually follow with her hands over her back if she could. Unfortunately, her truck is a bit more cramped than usual at the moment, and the most she can do is help Lena maneuver her way inside.

“Sorry,” Lena says belatedly, and she digs through her coat pocket to drop a quarter in the dented swear can. “They didn’t have hot chocolate, but I brought you coffee. And three sugars and three creamers, of course, so you can ruin it.”

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Kara sniffs, even though she knows her growing smile betrays her as she carefully accepts the styrofoam cup.

Lena rolls her eyes but she’s smiling too, try as she might to hide it behind her cup. “Okay, I’m caffeinated, we’re good to go,” she says, taking a long sip of black coffee. “Here’s to the middle of nowhere!”

“It’s pronounced _Midvale_ , actually.”

“Okay, smartass,” Lena says, and she has the audacity to only drop a penny into the swear can. “How much longer do we have to go?”

“Half an hour,” Kara replies cheerfully, but the news only makes Lena frown.

“You really make this drive every winter?”

“Of course,” Kara says. “It’s tradition to come home for Chanukah.”

Lena takes this information in silently. Then, “I could’ve bought us plane tickets.”

Kara laughs. “I know,” she says fondly. “But maybe I’m selfish and I wanted the extra three hours in this car with you.”

“Joke’s on you, since I slept through most of it.” But Lena rests her cheek on her palm, watching Kara for a long moment with soft eyes.

The mapquest voice deadpans that they have thirty more miles on the highway before they reach their destination, and Kara directs her attention back to the road. By now the heat is faithfully blasting, drowned only by the sound of the hip-hop radio station that Lena picks—the only reason being that it is the singular station miraculously _not_ playing Christmas music.

Music plays and Lena rests her head against the window and so Kara stays quiet; she figures Lena is dozing off again.

That is, until a question cuts through the background noise: “Will your family like me?”

Kara flexes her fingers around the steering wheel, slightly caught off guard at the vulnerability in Lena’s voice. “Of _course_ they will,” she says. “How could they not?”

“I think you’re a bit biased,” Lena reminds her, uncomfortably hugging her arms to her chest as she keeps her gaze trained to the window. “I’ve never…I don’t think I’ve ever been so _serious_ about anyone before you.”

“Hey.” Proper driving technique be damned, Kara rests her hand on Lena’s knee. “This is new for me, too. I’ve never brought anyone home before.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Kara promises. “Besides, imagine how terrified I’ll be when I meet _your_ family. Will they like me?”

Lena squeezes her hand in hers. “That can wait three or four years,” she says. “I _do_ want you to stick around, you know.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” Kara says, feeling a growing warmth fill her chest when Lena laughs; she could never tire of Lena’s laugh.

“You say that now, but just wait until my mother starts asking about your life ambitions. I’ve seen it happen to my brother’s girlfriends and it’s not pretty.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, then,” Kara teases. “Seeing how I can’t meet her for…three years.”

“At _least_ ,” Lena stresses. She raises the volume on the radio so she can tap along, off-key, and Kara resists the urge to laugh too.

“Hey,” Kara says, just as the robotic mapquest voice announces they have ten miles to go. “I love you.”

She’s met with a dazzling half-laugh, half-smile that crinkles at the edges.

“What brought that on?” Lena asks, but she reaches over to cover Kara’s hand on the wheel with her own.

“Nothing. I just always love you,” Kara says, and that garners a softer close-mouthed smile.

“That’s so cheesy,” Lena sighs, “but hey. I love you, too.” This she punctuates with a red lipsticked kiss to Kara’s cheek, but when she goes to wipe it away Kara catches her hand and refuses to let her.

.

.

.

“Do you have any traditions with your family?”

For a moment there’s only the crunch of the packed snow as an answer. Lena seemingly has to ponder the question, and at last she says,

“I don’t think so, unless yearly screaming matches count.”

“But usually you go home for the holidays, right? Every year?” Kara steadies Lena before she slips on a patch of gray ice slush.

“I go home every year for the annual Christmas gala,” Lena says. “I suppose that’s tradition enough.”

“You never talk about it,” Kara observes quietly, and the vice grip on her hand tightens further. 

Lena shrugs one shoulder. “There’s not much to talk about,” she says. “It’s the only reason I even go home, but it’s not for my family’s sake.”

“Then why do it?” Kara focuses on the steady beat of Lena’s heart, a beat that never falters even at the sudden question.

“I owe them that much, I think,” Lena says slowly. “All they care about is a unified front when it suits them, so I do my part.”

“That sounds…lonely,” Kara says, swinging her other hand around to stroke Lena’s cheek, inadvertently slowing their pace to a stop.

Lena gives her another shrug. “The alternative is they never leave me alone,” she says, then very gently tiptoes up to press a kiss to the corner of Kara’s mouth. Her lips are chapped, cold, and if Kara were human she might have shivered. “I’m fine with it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says, clasping Lena’s hand close to her heart guiltily. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“You didn’t,” Lena reassures her swiftly. “I promise it’s not a bad memory. It’s not ideal, but that doesn’t make it _bad_.”

“Anything that isn’t happy is a bad memory,” Kara tries, but Lena simply fixes her with an unimpressed look.

“Kara. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but _please_ shut up about my family. We’re here for you, remember?”

“I know, but…I _am_ sorry.”

“And _I_ ,” Lena declares, “am freezing my ass off. So can we keep walking?”

“Okay.” Kara reluctantly lets go of Lena so they can relink their hands. “That’s a quarter for the swear jar, by the way.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating an eighty-year-old,” Lena sighs, and she digs into her pocket to produce a crumpled twenty dollar bill. “Count this as insurance for the weekend when your mom hates me.”

“My mom will _not_ hate you.”

“You have zero control over that, darling,” Lena says, and she swings their joined hands together for the rest of the way.

When they arrive Lena doesn’t let go of her hand—adamantly refuses not to, really—and so Kara knocks, all the while trying to throw a reassuring smile in Lena’s direction. It does not help ease Lena’s nerves, because she still looks like she’s on the brink of throwing up any second.

Eliza is the one to answer the door, and she brightens the instant her eyes fall on them both; she catches Kara in a tight hug, the kind that Kara sinks into without any kind of hesitation. It’s the feeling of _home_ , and she can’t get enough of it.

Once Eliza has deemed the hug long enough, she turns to Lena. Kara sees the exact moment realization hits, because Eliza’s smile broadens.

“And _you_ must be Lena,” Eliza says, drawing a surprised Lena into her arms immediately after. “How nice to finally meet you! Kara has told us so much about you.”

“Hi,” Lena says faintly, still smushed against Eliza’s shoulder. “It’s, um, very nice to meet you too Mrs. Danvers.”

Eliza releases a shaky Lena a beat later, smoothing her hands over both her shoulder and Kara’s. “Oh, it’s so good to have you both here,” she breathes. “Come in! Alex is waiting.”

Kara waits for Eliza to walk ahead of them before she leans in to whisper, “She loves you already,” against Lena’s ear.

“You don’t know that,” Lena whispers back, but she’s relaxed enough to allow herself to be led into the kitchen for more introductions.

Alex is already stationed by the wine, and she offers Lena a glass in her form of greeting. “So you’re real,” she says. “I was beginning to think Kara made you up.”

“Hey!” Kara tries to feign offense, but Alex is hardly swayed.

“The idea of Kara actually dating a rich, pretty girl when she’s like…that,” Alex goes on, gesturing to Kara’s person, “made us all pretty suspicious. You wouldn’t happen to be pretending to be her girlfriend, would you?”

“That is—wow. That’s rude,” Kara huffs, elbowing her sister out of the way. “Lena, this is Alex, my former sister. I’ve now decided to disown her.”

“Hi,” Lena laughs, much more pleasantly than Kara had hoped for. “Kara told me you were fun.”

“I take it back now,” Kara says. “I take it all back. Lena, let’s go find someone nicer.”

Alex and Lena both ignore her in favor of chatting about the wine Alex has already opened; Kara knows a lost cause when she sees one—even if she’s happy they hit it off—and she makes her way to where James and Winn are waiting.

“Kara! You made it!” Winn is the first to throw his arms enthusiastically around her. “And you _did_ bring a girl. Everyone owes me ten bucks, so, thank you for that.”

“Really? _Everyone?_ ” Kara throws James a wounded look. “Even you, James?”

“In my defense,” James says, “I have full faith in you _now_.” But he’s grinning too much for Kara to be mad at him, so she hugs him next.

“Where’s Maggie?” she thinks to ask.

“She can’t make it. Snowed in,” Winn sighs. “It sucks.”

“No wonder Alex is trying to drink already,” Kara snorts. “What a sap.”

“Hey, she’s in _love_. I bet you would be the same way about Lena Luthor,” Winn teases. “Is it true that her brother is taking over Luthor Corp? Can she introduce me?”

“Don’t mention her brother,” Kara warns immediately. “Nothing about his work, nothing about Luthor Corp. Got it?”

“Uhh, sure?” Winn blinks, looking a bit startled. And afraid.

Kara exhales. “Sorry. It’s just a touchy subject,” she says. She waves Lena over the instant Alex lets her go, then sends the boys a warning glance so they’ll be on their best behavior.

Lena gives them a shy half-wave as she approaches, leaning against Kara’s side as soon as humanly possible.

“Lena, this is Winn, and this is James—both really good friends of the Danvers family,” Kara says. “Guys, this is Lena.”

“Really great to meet you,” Winn says, shaking Lena’s hand far too enthusiastically. “I’ve read all about your…your eyes. Yeah. Kara texts me paragraphs about your eyes.”

Lena’s smile goes from friendly to slightly confused. “Okay,” she says, then squints at Kara. “Babe, that’s kind of weird.”

“What? In a Nicholas Sparks novel that would be romantic,” Kara rolls with the lie, more relieved that Winn hadn’t slipped out with _I’ve read all about your family_ instead.

“No, you’re more of a quirky love interest,” Lena says decidedly. “Nicholas Sparks leans more towards the rugged hot type.”

“And you don’t think I could be the rugged hot type?” Kara clasps a hand to her heart. “Ouch.”

Lena crinkles her nose apologetically. “You’re hot to me,” she offers, to which Kara can only smile.

She presses a kiss to the back of Lena’s hand and says, “So if I asked you to reenact _The Notebook_ with me…”

“I would complain _endlessly_.”

“But that’s not a no,” Kara notes with particular interest. 

Lena gives a long-suffering sigh. “Come on then, Noah,” she says. “Your sister says they need you in the kitchen.”

.

.

.

This is her favorite part of Chanukah—when everyone is gathered around the kitchen table. The room is warm, cozy, and full of her favorite people; Kara watches Lena talk to James over the ideal latke topping and can’t quell the rush of affection that overcomes her.

When Lena catches her looking she quirks a curious eyebrow. “What?” she says.

“Nothing,” Kara says softly. “I just…love you. A lot.”

The curiously fades into a small, warm smile. “You don’t need to sweet-talk me to keep me happy, you know,” Lena says. “Feel free to, of course.”

Kara kisses her in lieu of a reply. She’s mindful of their company, and keeps the moment brief; it’s the kind of kiss that’s barely a brush of their lips against each other, the kind that exists as a promise for more.

She pulls back first, thumbing over the blush over Lena’s cheek, then over the worn lipstick of her lips, then very lightly over her chin.

“Thank you,” Kara says at last, voice so thick it sounds foreign to her own ears. “I love being able to share this—everyone and everything—with you. So…thank you for letting me.”

“Are you kidding? Thank _you_.” Lena cups Kara’s face in her hands, eyes mapping every miniscule movement on her part. “You’re the first person I can feel at home with. This is the…the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

All Kara wants to do is kiss her again, but she doesn’t, only blinks away the wetness gathering in her eyes and lets herself stay like this a minute longer before she reluctantly rejoins the conversation around them.

Lena rests her hand over Kara’s thigh under the table like she _understands_. Kara doesn’t know how she ever got so lucky.

Eliza watches them with a knowing look, but says nothing. At least, nothing related to their relationship: “So Lena, Kara tells me you run a bakery?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” Lena says, a bit more flustered than she lets on. “My friend Jack and I co-own the place.”

“And what led you to baking?” Eliza asks. “I love it too. My mom taught me everything I know.”

Lena hesitates. “Well, it’s all about chemistry,” she says. “I’ve always been drawn to how the sciences function in real life, so I took it up in college. Opening a bakery seemed like the inevitable route after that.”

“I’ll bet that it is a great place,” Eliza says. “Kara swears by it. Even before she met you she couldn’t stop talking about it.”

“And then I did meet her,” Kara adds, still as awestruck by the memory two years later as she was the first day. “Funny how life works out, huh?” When she looks at Lena she finds her smiling back, probably remembering the same thing.

“I mean, I’d say it worked out in my favor,” Lena quips.

“Really?” Alex cuts in. “You’re aware that you can do better than Kara, right?”

“Hey!”

“No offense, Kara,” Alex tacks on. “But did you or did you not eat three cakes in one sitting four days ago?”

“That’s an alien thing,” Kara gripes, and she doesn’t have to look to know Alex is mouthing _no it isn’t_.

“Don’t embarrass your sister, Alex,” Eliza chides fondly. “Here, be useful and pass me the sour cream. Lena, more latkes?”

“Oh no, thank you,” Lena says. “I’m much more interested in this ‘embarrassing Kara’ thing. I have to ask…are there funny kid pictures?”

“Nope, no, we’re not doing that!” Kara exclaims; at the same time Alex says,

“There are _plenty_ , just you wait.”

Before Kara can dramatically fake her death so they don’t do that, Eliza stands up.

“I didn’t realize how late it was getting! Come on everyone, it’s time.”

The tradition used to be that Jeremiah would light the shamash and the first candle on the menorah. The first year Kara came to the Danvers house, however, marked a change; they had let her do it. Kara was still only thirteen, alien to this planet’s customs, and so afraid of messing up that she had nearly knocked the entire menorah over during the process.

This year marks four without Jeremiah there and it’s a bittersweet moment, to stand where he stood and take on the job he gave her to feel _included_ once upon a time.

Kara has never forgotten how it felt that first night. To see Jeremiah grinning proudly at her, to see Eliza watching her softly, to see Alex eye her curiously but not unkindly. It had felt like _home_ right then.

Lighting the first candle always brings her back to that moment. The only thing that’s changed is that, as she steps back, Lena is there to slip into her arms as Eliza starts reciting the shehecheyanu.

Lena rests her head against Kara’s shoulder, lips inadvertently brushing against her collarbone, and Kara has never felt more content.

.

.

.

It’s late by the time everyone retires to bed.

James and Winn drive home, but Eliza makes up two rooms for her daughters. Kara sets her things and Lena’s in their room, but when she goes to tell Lena she’s vanished.

Kara eventually finds her once she thinks to use her X-ray vision; oddly enough, she spots her silhouette on the roof.

“You know,” she says, once she floats up beside her, “I could’ve flown you up here faster.”

“I’m already testing my limits,” Lena says wryly. “And I still will always refuse to let you fly me anywhere.”

Kara touches the edge of the roof to carefully hoist herself up. “Why _are_ you here?” she says. “You’re afraid of heights.”

“Trust me, I know,” Lena sighs. “But I was remembering how you said you used to sit up here when you first landed on Earth, and I suppose I wanted to feel what you felt.”

“Feels kinda lonely, doesn’t it?” Kara places an arm around Lena’s waist to tug her close, and Lena nods wordlessly against her, curling her hands in Kara’s sweater.

“Your family is great,” says Lena suddenly. “I like them very much.”

Kara beams. “They like you too,” she says. “Like I knew they would.”

“Okay, okay, don’t rub it in,” Lena scoffs. “Forgive me for assuming your family would be like…well, mine.” She’s quiet for a beat or two, then: “I kept waiting for your mother to question my life choices, or your sister to freeze me out…”

“Lena…”

“No, let me finish,” Lena says. “But I’m _sorry_. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst. I-I was feeling so insecure, and I—felt kind of jealous, too, because you and your family have so many nice traditions and here I am with the world’s worst experience with family—”

“Lena! Whoa, hold on,” Kara says. “I didn’t expect you to meet my family with open arms, you know? I always knew you would have a lot to work through. I’m sorry if it was too much.”

“It wasn’t,” Lena says. “It just made me feel… _sad_ for my family. They’ve never cared about each other like yours does. They’re all awful people, if you think about it. It makes me wonder if I’m destined to follow in their footsteps.”

Kara feels a pang of hurt course through her. “You would _never_ be like them,” she promises. “You’re the most wonderful, thoughtful, caring person in the world and they’re jerks if they can’t see that.”

“Careful, Kara Danvers,” Lena chuckles warmly, “that’s awfully close to a quarter in the swear can.”

“Your family brings it out of me, honey,” Kara jokes, and Lena bursts out laughing hard enough that she snorts once or twice against Kara’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe I find you attractive,” Lena breathes out once she’s calmed down enough. “We should probably stop moping, shouldn’t we?”

“Maybe,” Kara agrees. “Or we could stay here longer and keep talking about how awful your family is.”

“As tempting as that sounds, it is _really_ fucking cold out here,” Lena says, to which Kara hugs her tighter and says,

“Now that _is_ a quarter for the swear jar.”

“It’s more of a swear can,” Lena corrects her. “And I can’t believe you still have that ridiculous gag going.”

“It’s no gag, it’s a Jeremiah Danvers tradition,” Kara says. “I’m sure my dad would find it hilarious that its only use is stealing your money.”

“I wish I could’ve met him,” Lena says, voice quieter than it has been all night. “I would’ve thanked him, for allowing me to be part of any tradition of yours.”

“You can be part of any Danvers family tradition that you want,” Kara swears, and if she could face Lena now she’s sure her quivering lip might give the rush of her beating heart away; it makes her think of the bracelet tucked away in her bedroom drawer, still unengraved. “And we can always make our own traditions, too.”

A huff of laughter is the first reply she gets. “Well,” Lena says, “we’ll always have the swear can.”

“For _now_ ,” Kara says. “Just you wait. There’s so much more in store for us. I can feel it.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Lena exhales a bit dreamily. “Hey,” she says. “I love you.”

Kara doesn’t fight the urge to grin, dopey and wide. “What brought that on?” she teases, softer than she dares to admit.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Lena says, but she winds her arms around Kara’s neck and kisses her senseless in the next breath, gripping onto her collar so tightly it must hurt.

Kara holds Lena securely by her waist and melts against her without another thought. She figures she can wait until tomorrow for the rest.

(Even the quarter that Lena owes the swear jar).


End file.
